Of Pistols and People
by DarkOblivion316
Summary: A story of the ultimate loss, the loss of a family member and how one teenager decides to deal with it. Character death, but NOT suicide. Please R&R! Thanks!


Disclaimer: No, I don't own Digimon. If I did, then Sora and Tai would have gotten together. Maybe it's just me, but Matt and Sora don't seem to work together, and it was obvious that Tai had a crush on her all his life… bah. Just shows how I **don't** own Digimon.

Of Pistols and People 

A lone figure walks on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets and head down, examining the intricate patterns of the smooth, unblemished concrete walkway. The young man has fuzzy dark brown hair that has not seen a comb in a very long time. He is wearing a simple pair of faded blue jeans, a thin blue shirt outlined with golden patterns and writing, and an overcoat with yellow paw prints climbing up the back, contrasting brightly with the blue. 

Only when he reaches the small bridge does he bring his head up to gaze with chocolate brown eyes at the endless sky, dotted with stars that glitter like diamonds against the twilight night. The adolescent leans on the railing of the bridge and watches the water beneath him flow and splash lightly against the jutting rocks. Hastily, he turns and walks swiftly off the bridge, making his way to the bank of the diminutive stream. Although small, this stream is relatively large in size, its width being roughly three meters and its length… well, the stream simply wound around four or five city blocks. The young man looks down into the water, gawking at his disgruntled reflection in the clear water. His eyes are red and bloodshot, for he has been crying for hours and soft locks of brown hair stick to his sweaty face, even though the night is cold. 

The teenager straightens and snatches something out of his pocket. He examines it, slowly flipping the object back and forth in his hands until his right index finger comes to rest on the trigger. _Heh. Maybe I should end it right now._ But even as the thought crosses his mind, he realizes that fear has taken a hold of him and he cannot bear to go through with what he had originally planned to do tonight. 

The young adult takes one look at the engraving on the side of the gun, tracing the elegant writing with a shaky finger. Then he cradles the gun affectionately and places the flat side of the pistol against his heart, breathing deeply to resolve the raging conflict within his mind. _No, I have to do it. For everyone. For **him**. _He returns the weapon to his pocket, turning away from the cackling stream with the rush of the water still sounding in his ears and walks towards his destination. When he reaches the gates, the teenager halts, cursing himself for not thinking to bring along a source of light. He fumbles for something in his pockets, the trace of a faint grin on his face as he retrieves a small matchbook. 

_Somewhere in the middle…_The young man lights a match and gapes at the large, open place of rest as he begins to stagger across the graveyard. After many slips and falls, he catches a glimpse of his goal, one particular grave stationed near the very center of the burial ground. As the adolescent reaches the tombstone, the match in his hand flickers, throwing an ethereal shadow on the carved stone. The young adult squats down next to the grave and traces the letters chiseled into the cool rock, choking back a sob as he stares at the headstone. The fresh grave was only dug a week before, and so the grass has not yet had time to cover the loved one. The teenager begins to shovel the dirt out with his bare hands, not noticing that the dirt is getting on his clothes. 

Quickly, he creates a small hole and again removes the pistol from his coat pocket. The young man sighs and places the gun into the small hole and again covers it with the dry earth. Before breaking into a sprint and running back home, Yagami Taichi leaves a small note leaning against the gravestone. The writing on the small card matches the engraving on the exquisite pistol now buried underground:

**Ensuring the safety of us all, Officer Yagami, the No. 1 Police Dad.**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Author's Note:

Please, **please**, **PLEASE **Review!!!! I need to know what the people think about my writing so that I can start on my actual Digimon fic. It is much appreciated.

Tai: Yeah… here's hoping she won't kill me off…

Frick: Heh… hoping… *writing Tai's death*

Tai: *gulp* Oh boy… Wait! You can't kill ME. I'm your favorite character!

Frick: Which makes it all the more fun… *evil smile* my kawaii bishie.

Tai: Oh no… *to audience* Please review!!! For my sake?!?! What am I saying? I'm gonna die!!! *runs away*

Frick: You can't run forever! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!


End file.
